


You Are My Canvas

by fallenrose24



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 17:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15667824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenrose24/pseuds/fallenrose24
Summary: (End game spoilers) Brighid finds that sometimes words are not enough to record a memory.





	You Are My Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Calling this a stream of consciousness is an understatement. Ummm... yeah, this idea started off small and then kinda ballooned over the entire game. I'm quickly approaching a time in which I will be very busy and pretty much unable to do anything other than work, so might as well flush most of my ideas out in one go, right? Not intentional, but I rolled with it.
> 
> There are some narration and flashbacks woven throughout this piece indicated by italics. Italics used for dialogue not in flashbacks are Pyra and Mythra speaking to each other in their head.
> 
> Feedback is definitely appreciated on this one as I poured a lot into it. This basically follows Mὸrag and Brighid for most of their story and I gave Aegaeon some love because he's too underrated for someone who obviously should have been important to these two.
> 
> One more short piece is in the works and then I'll be signing off.

_Brighid had a habit of watching her._ __  
  
It alarmed Mòrag in the beginning. Her Blade's closed eyes made it impossible to tell what was on her mind when she would slip into these studying moments. She asked once and Brighid had claimed it was to help her recall whatever memory from the day she wished to record in her journal. It was a suspect answer, given how Brighid’s hand would move across the page almost aimlessly, but it was the only one she was ever given.  
  
Eventually, she grew accustomed to it. It was just another part of their routine. When they had a quiet moment, Brighid would pull out her journal and Mòrag would occasionally feel her hidden gaze for hours.  
  
It happened more often when she was swamped with paperwork...  
  
Mòrag sighed as she flipped through another recruit application. She had spent nearly the entire week cooped up in her office since returning from Gormott. The regiment stationed at the Torigoth Relay Base had sent her home with boxes of paperwork - physical and psychological evaluations of new Gormotti soldiers.  
  
The only downside to Dughall being recalled from his position was that she was now stuck dealing with his unfinished business.  
  
Brighid was sitting on a small couch against the window toward the back of her office. Her journal was out, but, as always, she split her time between scribbling on the page and staring at her Driver.  
  
Suddenly, the door burst open, nearly banging against the wall. Mòrag startled as a guard ran up to her desk and saluted. She could hear Brighid tisk in annoyance.  
  
"Forgive the intrusion, Special Inquisitor, but reports have come in that several of our evening patrol platoons have been attacked!"  
  
Mòrag jumped to her feet and grabbed the whip-swords resting on the table behind her.  
  
"Is there a suspect?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am..."  
  
She glared when he hesitated.  
  
"Well... umm... it appears to have been a... mechanical human?"  
  
Flashes of her battle in Torigoth came rushing back - images of a Nopon fighting with a small, robotic girl.  
  
"An Artificial Blade..." She looked to the other side of the room. "Brighid?"  
  
The fire Blade sighed as she closed her journal and stood. Together, they raced out, prepared to take on the Aegis once again.  
  
\---  
  
_Brighid would often make good use of long voyages when it came to her habitual staring. As Special Inquisitor and given her familiarity with Gormott, Mὸrag was frequently sent to the Province to aide with the Consul’s assimilation. Once Dughall had been instated and settled, though, the journeys stopped. There was only a final ride left for them, but it was one that Brighid took alone. That voyage had felt longer than it actually had been. The Blade remained engrossed in her journal the entire time, as if she could will what she put on those pages into existence. If she could, Mὸrag would have been sitting beside her._  
  
The journey to Leftheria was longer than Mὸrag anticipated. Eventually, she grew tired of her post on the deck and retired to her designated room with Brighid. She nearly collapsed on the bed as the exhaustion from the day fully sent into her bones. Since running into Rex and the Aegis the night before, she had been up trying to track down how exactly the Argentum Trade Guild had infiltrated their defenses… then came mobilizing the army, racing to the abandoned factory, and fending off two Torna Drivers. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours.

Warm hands brushed over her face as they moved to slip her Commissar cap off her head. Brighid smiled down at her softly before leaning over to place the hat on a nearby nightstand.

“Are you feeling alright, Lady Mὸrag?”

Mὸrag matched her smile. “Yes, Brighid, just worn from the last few days.”

The Blade let her fingers trail back down her Driver’s face before she stepped back. “Would you like me to rub your shoulders?”

“Do not trouble yourself.” She didn’t bother to remove her greaves before she stretched out along the bed. “I think I’ll just take a moment to rest, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever you need.”

Mὸrag hummed in thanks as her eyes drifted closed. “Wake me when we near the Leftherian port?”

“Of course, Lady Mὸrag.”

She cracked one eye open as she watched her Blade walk over to the gas lamp in the corner. “You can leave it on if you like.”

Brighid sent her a gentle smile as she shook her head. “The light of my flames is good enough.”

She plunged the room into darkness and walked back to her Driver. Sitting down at the edge of the bed, she reached over and brushed a warm hand over the woman’s cheek. Brighid felt her heart skipped a beat when Mὸrag nuzzled against her palm, keeping it trapped between her cheek and shoulder, before relaxing with a deep sigh.

Slowly, Brighid pulled out her journal and flipped to the next available page. The light of her fire guided her free hand as she periodically looked up and took in the rare softness on Mὸrag’s face.

\---

_Training sessions were some of the most common times Mὸrag would feel Brighid’s hidden eyes burrowing into her. Of course, those were only the sessions during which Mὸrag had elected to fight on her own. During one of her more rigorous sessions with a group of soldiers testing for placement in the Carraig Special Guard Unit, Mὸrag nearly lost her focus. She later tried to reprimand her Blade for the distraction, but the woman’s cheeks were so obviously flushed… she didn’t have the heart to embarrass her further. Brighid had merely waved it off, saying Mὸrag only had herself to blame for removing her coat halfway through the training exercise._

_A little skin apparently went a long way._

Mὸrag grunted as she violently slapped Rex’s sword aside. He lost his balance, careening down into the dirt as the Inquisitor stood over him. She pointed a whip to the back of his neck and smirked as he dropped his weapon and raised his hands in defeat, his face still pressed into the cold ground.

“You leave yourself open, boy.” She stepped back and holstered her swords to her waist. “The moment I can read your next move, the battle is already won.”

Rex sighed as Pyra helped him up, rubbing a hand against his cheek to knock off tiny, embedded pebbles. “Hard not to with a weapon this big. I guess I sometimes lose track of it.”

“You have no faith in your hands.” Mὸrag scrutinized Pyra for a moment, taking in the way she coddled her Driver. “I think it best we fight alone.”

“Wha?”

“The Aegis is not the problem here.”

Without warning, Mὸrag unsheathed a sword and cracked her whip toward them. Pyra immediately deflected it. When her shield dissolved, Rex stood with his arms wide in shock.

“You didn’t bother to reach for your weapon?” The Ardainian scoffed as she looked down at the boy through the slats in her metal visor. “This but proves my point. Aegis, if you wouldn’t mind… I would prefer to work with your Driver when he cannot rely on your power.”

Pyra tilted her head, warning bells sounded in her head, but could sense nothing but genuine intentions from the woman before her. “You want to hone his skills as a fighter?”

“Indeed. It is quite easy to become reliant on a Blade as powerful as yourself, but that merely clips your wings. His skills are improving, but he still cannot do you justice.”

_“Ha! Even Mὸrag thinks he’s terrible. Bet she’d be singing a different tune if I stepped in.”_

_“I think that’s exactly her point, Mythra.”_

_“Let’s just hope she doesn’t kill him…”_

“Well, I’d say go easy on him, but I guess that would defeat the purpose.” Pyra laughed softly as she nodded for Rex to step forward.

“Worry not, I have no intention of harming the boy.” Mὸrag turned her attention to the salvager. “If you truly mean to be the Driver of the Aegis, then you will earn the right to wield her by fighting on your own.”

A wide grin stretched across Rex’s face. “I’m startin’ to get the feelin’ that I’m learning the secret to how you and Brighid got so strong.”

“We are equals on the battlefield. You are far from that.”

Pyra smiled as she watched her Driver ready his stance. He was clearly getting into it. She caught Mὸrag’s eye and a part of her became a bit unnerved as she struggled to read the warrior’s blank stare. It was still odd to think this woman was willing to aide them – to train her Driver – especially when she had attacked them not that long ago. Regardless of her motivation, she had saved them in Mor Ardain… and Rex had felt comfortable enough to ask her to train him during their journey to Leftheria. She trusted her Driver’s instincts.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you both to it.” The Aegis nodded her head, her eyes still trained on the Ardainian. “And Mὸrag? It’s Pyra.”

The Inquisitor bowed before unsheathing her weapons. That was the last image Pyra saw before she turned and started making her way back to Corinne’s cottage. As she neared the door, a group of squealing children spun her about as they ran past her, caught up in a game of tag. She steadied herself against the side of the house, but as her gaze drifted, she caught sight of a blue glow against a tree overlooking the field.

Brighid shook her head as she watched her Driver smack the young boy into the dirt again. She had been surprised when Mὸrag had agreed to work with him while she remained in their company, but it only took a few minutes of watching them together for her to understand. To the outside eye, their battle in Alba Cavanich had seemed equally matched, but Mὸrag had merely been testing the water – taking her time as she analyzed the Aegis’ power to satisfy her own curiosity. Now, that patience was gone. She was purposefully ripping the holes in the boy’s defenses wide open. It was a bit brutal to watch, but Brighid did enjoy seeing the confidence that radiated from her Driver. Despite her harsh exterior, Mὸrag was a brilliant teacher and it warmed Brighid’s heart to see her working with such a willing student.

With a satisfied sigh, the Blade returned to her journal. Her pen glided over the page, sharpening the image of a warrior besting her opponent. She looked up for a moment, absorbing the look on Mὸrag’s face as she attacked once more. Her fingers blindly added detail to the page.

“That’s impressive!”

Brighid startled violently at the intrusion, slamming her journal shut as she stood and spun around. The Aegis merely stared at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Pyra held up her hands in an attempt to placate the other fire Blade. “I saw you up here and figured we could spend a little time together while our Drivers are…”

Brighid narrowed her eyes as she held her journal tighter.

“I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

The way the Aegis deflated made Brighid mentally kick herself. There was no reason for her hostility. She was the one who chose to work out in the open – it was a small wonder it had taken so long for someone to notice what she was doing.

“It’s alright.” Brighid sighed as she turned away. “No harm done.”

Pyra stepped up next to her, looking down as Rex parried effectively even as his footing slipped. A small smile pulled at her lips as her Driver pumped his fist in excitement. She laughed as Mὸrag snapped a whip at his feet, barking out orders for how he should modify his stance. Without warning, she attacked again and the Aegis found herself nearly mesmerized as Rex moved as instructed. Their weapons clanged loudly, but his feet held firm.

Brighid huffed in amusement as she watched the Aegis. “Looks like the boy is a quick study.”

“I’d say he found himself a good teacher.” Red eyes glimmered at her with genuine gratitude.

“Lady Mὸrag is quite good at what she does.”

“She’s an impressive Driver, that’s for sure.”

Brighid shook her head as she kept her gaze trained on the Ardainian below. “That’s not what I meant. She acts as one of the overseers for our military’s training regiments. The most promising soldiers come under her tutelage and some are eventually promoted to the unit that guards the throne. She is constantly modifying and improving on the training strategies she herself went through.”

“That seems like a lot of work... on top of everything else she does.”

“Indeed, but she enjoys it.” Brighid smiled. “She is trained to quickly assess an enemy’s weakness so that she can strike them down swiftly. As the Emperor’s shield, she must be the best.”

“Is that what she’s doing to Rex?” Pyra peered down at the fighting pair with a more scrutinizing gaze. “You really were holding back on us, weren’t you?”

“Lady Mὸrag was quite taken with the boy’s potential. She saw no reason to completely obliterate it.”

“Until now?”

Brighid laughed as she turned to the Aegis. “He’ll learn best by becoming aware of his weaknesses. Her methods might be harsh, but Lady Mὸrag is a patient teacher.”

Pyra paused for a moment, touched by how warmly the stoic Blade spoke of her Driver. Despite their formal bravado, it was clear to the Aegis that the Ardainian pair cared very deeply about each other. It was nice to see… especially since the other Ardainian Drivers they had encountered – Dughall, especially – didn’t seem to care much about their Blades at all. Their relationship alone made her want to trust them as much as Mythra seemed to.

“How long have you two been together?”

“Nearly a decade now.” Brighid’s grip on the book in her hand noticeably tightened. “She resonated with me when she was quite young… much like your Driver.”

_“Brighid is supposed to be the Emperor’s Blade… that must mean, Mὸrag is –“_

“She’s royalty… isn’t she?”

Brighid’s lifted her brow in surprise before an amused huff escaped her lips. “You’re quite astute. It’s well known across Alrest that Lady Mὸrag was once slated to be Mor Ardain’s ruler… though I didn’t expect you to know that given you’ve missed the last 500 years. Your Driver also doesn’t strike me as the type to keep informed of international politics.”

“I’m cheating a bit.” Pyra tapped at her forehead. “Mythra’s in here coaching me. So, what happened?”

“Her brother, His Majesty, was born.”

_“Good to know Ardainian sexism is alive and well.”_

Pyra banished Mythra’s voice as she looked back at the two Drivers. From the way Mὸrag was oddly moving about, it seemed like she was demonstrating how a body movement could broadcast an attack. The look on her face was gentler and her eyes lacked the steel and ice that typically resided in them during combat. Perhaps this was a glimpse of what the woman was truly like… a mentor with patience gifted by her experience raising her sibling.

“A brother… that must be nice.” The Aegis clutched her hands to her chest. “I guess the only family us Blades really have are our Drivers.”

“I would say that’s more than we need.” Brighid sighed as she stepped back to lean against the tree behind them. “We lose our memories with each incarnation… I imagine it would be quite painful to know we had left a family behind – people who might very well still be alive when someone else resonates with us. It’s hard enough to not remember our Drivers… but they at least die with us.”

“Is that why you’re drawing her? So you can remember her?”

The glare on Brighid’s face was fierce.

“S-sorry… I don’t mean to pry. It’s just-“

“I would prefer it if you kept what you saw to yourself.”

Pyra stumbled back as Brighid pushed past her.

“Brighid, I’m-”

“What I do is my business.” The Blade peered back at her over her shoulder. “Especially with regards to my Driver. You might remember me, but I don’t know you well enough to have this discussion.”

Pyra sighed as she watched Brighid retreat. She could feel Mythra figuratively slapping her upside the head for forgetting the Blade’s private nature. In her defense… she didn’t actually know Brighid. That was the whole reason she had sought her out to begin with. She shook her head as she turned around, hoping a glimpse of Rex would put her at ease.

Instead, she found Mὸrag glaring up at her. There was no way she could have heard…

Metal clanged loudly as the Inquisitor easily swatted Rex aside, her steeled eyes never once leaving the Aegis.

\---

Mὸrag noticed the change almost immediately. She expected to feel Brighid’s gaze during their journey to Indol, but instead, her Blade kept her head down as her hand moved linearly across page after page. Ironically, it was Mὸrag who spent most of her time staring. She had every intention of reading the book she had pulled out of her satchel, but she had yet to finish a single paragraph. The change in Brighid’s demeanor was almost alarming… as was the fact that Mὸrag _missed_ feeling her Blade’s invasive stare.

Something had happened in Leftheria. She hadn’t heard the words, but she had felt a burning pulse deep in her chest. Their ether connection had flared violently and then quickly snuffed out. The fact that Pyra had been standing in place of her Blade was proof enough that something had gone wrong. Brighid had been tight lipped about it for the rest of their time in Fonsett.

With a sigh, she closed the book and made her way over to the bed where Brighid was writing. She placed a hand on her Blade’s bare shoulder, squeezing it gently as she silently asked for the woman’s attention.

“Are you alright, Lady Mὸrag?”

Mὸrag smiled as she shook her head. “I feel as though I should be asking _you_ that question.”

The Blade merely stared up at her in silence.

“Very well.” Mὸrag made to remove her hand but paused when Brighid reached up to grasp at her fingers. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready to speak about this?”

Brighid brought the hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss against the smooth fabric of her glove. “It’s nothing really. Just a simple argument about the prying nature of some Blades.”

“Ah, I see.” Mὸrag sat beside her, threading their fingers together. “The Aegis?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“To me, perhaps.” She squeezed the hand in hers. “I know I may not be the best at advising on casual social etiquette, but… I suggest you make an effort to lower your defenses around her. This is a Blade who once knew you quite well.”

Brighid huffed and lowered her gaze. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“That’s exactly my point.” Mὸrag gently turned the woman’s face back to her. “Our time with these people will be limited. I would hate for you to miss out an opportunity to learn more about yourself.”

Brighid’s shoulders sagged as her Driver’s words sank in. Mὸrag could be so unintentionally thoughtful – it was almost maddening. Without warning, she scooted closer on the mattress and wrapped her arms around the unsuspecting woman. It took only a few seconds before the gesture was returned in kind and the two melted into the warmth that radiated between them.

With a final squeeze, Brighid pulled back and patted her Driver’s cheek. “Thank you, Lady Mὸrag.”

“Of course, Brighid.”

Turning away from the soft look on her Blade’s face, Mὸrag rolled her shoulders, appreciating the residual warmth buried in her muscles from where Brighid’s hands had held her. With a sigh, she let herself fall back against the mattress as she kicked her feet up. Her legs landed across Brighid’s lap and Mὸrag couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips at the sounds of the woman’s squawk of indignation.

With a laugh, Brighid shoved Mὸrag’s legs off and rescued her flattened journal. She slammed the book shut with a dramatic flare and reached over to grab the woman’s legs as the Ardainian attempted to pull them away. She yanked, forcing them back over her lap as she rubbed burning hands over the thick fabric of her uniform. Thankfully, Mὸrag had thought to remove her greaves before pulling that stunt. Her heart filled as she watched the woman’s self-righteous smirk turn into an almost shy smile.

Mὸrag nestled against the pillows behind her, comforted by the attention her Blade was giving her and the soothing feel of the return of her invasive gaze as she heard Brighid’s journal crack open again.

\---

Their first night in Indol was calm – an oddity when it came to their previous trips to the Praetorium. Brighid knew that Mὸrag enjoyed the beautify of their current locale, but she wasn’t particularly fond of the Praetor himself. The few times she accompanied Niall on official business, Amalthus had pressed her on the future use of Brighid’s and Aegaeon’s Core Crystals. The Imperial duo were unique amongst Blades as their Drivers remained within the royal family. That meant they were never sent to Indol for cleansing – a fact that the Praetor did not seem to appreciate.

Brighid remembered their first visit vividly…  
  
_The Praetor lifted his elbows onto the table, threading his raised fingers as he stared at the newly crowned ruler._ __  
  
"Well, Emperor Niall, I must say this was a pleasant surprise."  
  
The young boy frowned as he spared a quick glance at his sister across the table. "Your Eminence?"  
  
"Forgive me for being so blunt, but I was not expecting to meet someone quite so poised and well-read as you when I heard the Ardainian Empire had been forced to crown a child their ruler."  
  
"My father taught me well." Niall looked over his shoulder at Aegaeon. "And I've surrounded myself with reliable advisers."

_“I can see that.” The Praetor’s gaze narrowed as he took stock of his company. “Both Imperial Blades and your Special Inquisitor. A bit of nepotism, clearly, though I can’t blame you given your circumstances.”_

_Mὸrag gritted her teeth at the obvious insult, but she bit her tongue as Brighid placated her with a calming hand against her shoulder._

_“I assure you, Mὸrag is more than qualified.”_

_Amalthus leaned back, stroking his chin as he stared down at the woman to his right. “I assume she must be, otherwise I imagine the Jewel of Mor Ardain would have continued to remain dormant.”_

_This was getting tiresome. Being talked about as if she wasn’t even in the room was one of the more aggravating consequences of her station. Her role was for security and occasional guidance, only. With His Majesty present, she was not the Empire’s representative, which meant she was expected to remain silent unless directly addressed. She didn’t care much when the conversation was of a political nature – Niall would always seek her opinion at some point – but being forced to keep quiet while someone doled out judgement against her? Her patience was only so thick._

_“I’m glad to see that at least one of your Imperial Blades does not appear to be damaged.”_

_Brighid’s grip tightened almost painfully._

_“Emperor Niall, have you considered reevaluating your father’s stance on Core Crystal cleansing?”_

_The young ruler folded his hands neatly in his lap as he took in the stiff and clearly agitated body language of his sister and her Blade. “I see no reason to. We already send regular shipments of Core Crystals to you for our military.”_

_“Yes, but I’m talking about Aegaeon and Brighid here.” Amalthus turned his attention to the fire Blade. “Given the recent struggle of the Imperial line to awaken her, wouldn’t you rather I help alleviate that issue for you? It would be a shame if something were to happen to her Driver and she was lost to you again… especially with the mounting tension the Empire has with Uraya.”_

_“I believe you are underestimating my Special Inquisitor.”_

_The Praetor smirked as he let his gaze wander to Mὸrag. “Am I? What do you think, Inquisitor Mὸrag?”_

_She took a calming breath before speaking. “Only those capable of wielding her power should be able to resonate with Brighid. Our family’s struggle to awaken her is not a sign of her ‘damage’, as you put it. It’s merely a sign of our failure to measure up to her standards.”_

_Amalthus couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips, especially when he caught sight of the Blade’s blue hand against the woman’s shoulder. “You sound quite confident in your own worth.”_

_“I am.”_

_“Good. I would hope of no less from a woman who was once a step away from the throne.” The Praetor pushed back his chair and abruptly stood, prompting the Ardainians to follow suit. “Emperor Niall, it was a pleasure.”_

_The boy bowed his head. “I thank you for the invitation, Your Eminence.”_

_“Let’s agree to revisit this discussion of your Blades at a later date.”_

Mὸrag had stood her ground each and every time he brought it up. It was that first meeting, though, that prompted Brighid to start her sketches. She wanted to capture that look of confidence. She wanted to be able to flip back and remember what it looked like when a Driver prioritized her desires… as if she deserved an opinion on what became of her. Mὸrag continued to prove over and over again that she was not someone Brighid wanted to forget. In retrospect, it was no surprise she fell so quickly for the soldier.

Brighid smiled to herself at the thought.

She was just returning from her morning walk, eager to spend a few quiet moments with her Driver, but her steps halted at the sight of an open door. Pyra was alone in the room she shared with Nia, staring off through the window that overlooked the Inner Sanctum. From the sag in her shoulders, it was clear there was a storm brewing in the Aegis’ mind. Brighid was tempted to continue walking, to give the girl the same wide boundary she had asked for herself in Fonsett… but that would have been hypocritical. She had already returned Pyra’s prying act in kind by purposefully sticking around when she realized the Aegis was confiding in Corinne. It certainly didn’t help that she had Mὸrag’s voice in her head, encouraging her to connect with the Blade.

With a sigh, Brighid gripped the binding of her journal tightly and strolled into the room.

“Hey, relax. You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

Pyra didn’t startle, a simple fact the unnerved Brighid just a bit – she must have sensed her approach. She calmly turned to face the intruding Blade.

“A Driver and Blade are one in body in soul... it was you who told me that. Well, the other you, I mean.”

“You mean Mythra?”

Brighid nodded. “Of course, it was over 500 years ago, so perhaps you have forgotten”

_“Oh! I do remember saying that!”_

_“So, it’s true? But how could she possibly remember…”_

“You’re wondering how I could remember words spoken so many years ago?” At the Aegis’ nod, Brighid held out the journal. Her hands shook slightly in trepidation.

Pyra recognized it almost immediately once the thick book was safely in her hands. “Is this-“

“You could call it a ‘diary’, I suppose.” Brighid moved to lean against the wall as she averted her gaze. “It contains not just the sketch you saw, but details of my past lives. It’s the only way I have to remember.”

The Aegis stepped back, holding the book as far away as her arms would allow. “Brighid, you… you don’t have to share this with me. Really.”

“It’s alright. I know I was quick to shut you down before, but… I hope you’ll forgive me.” Her closed eyes turned back to take in Pyra’s questioning gaze. “I don’t share this journal with many. Not even Lady Mὸrag has asked to see its contents.”

“So, why are you-”

“When we return to the Core Crystal, our minds are wiped clean of all memories. Though a Blade’s life is eternal, our effective lifespans as individuals are far shorter than that of a human’s. It can be difficult to live knowing that is our eventual fate.” Burning hands reached up and gripped at the burning flame in her chest. “You know, it’s not just me. A lot of Blade try to preserve their memories in journals like this one. Though… it’s often futile.”

Pyra brushed a hand over the cover. “But you’ve managed to keep yours all this time?”

“I’m fortunate amongst Blades. I’m passed down as an Imperial treasure and my journal is stored away in the Ardainian historical archives until I return.”

“Erm… Brighid?”

The fire Blade pushed herself off the wall and stepped closer to the Aegis. “This journal is all I have to understand who I truly am. All lives are influenced by those who walk on our path. I don’t see how I can truly be myself if I can’t recall those I used to care for.”

Pyra’s grip on the journal tightened. “It can be an awful burden to remember.”

“Even so, being honest with myself is something I feel I need to do… not just for my sake, but for Mὸrag’s, as well.”

That got the Aegis’ attention.

“I don’t know where your true intentions lie. I can only make an educated guess. But Rex… he _is_ your Driver. If you truly trust him, I would advise you tell him everything. If you can’t do that even for him… then you shouldn’t be his Blade at all.”

“I just-“

“If you care about him, it’s even more important.” Brighid reached forward, cupping the back of the woman’s hands as they remained glued to the journal. “I know what it’s like to be afraid rejection. I _really_ do. But if you don’t tell him now, you’re just storing up pain for later. Not making it easier.”

Pyra’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the Blade’s knowing gaze. “You heard, didn’t you? When I was talking to Corinne.”

“I suppose that makes us even.” Brighid stepped back with a slight smile. “Though, to be fair, all you saw was an unfinished sketch. I was hoping this might make it up to you. I didn’t mean to pry, but, if it helps, that journal will show you that you’re not alone in questioning if your Driver is truly better off without you by their side.”

Pyra’s heart pounded loudly in her chest as she cracked open the cover. Brighid’s elegant script was scrawled across page after page. Questioning words about the point of existence were repeated over and over again. The number of pages that abruptly stopped in the middle caught her eye.

“As an Imperial Blade, I’ve protected Mor Ardain’s royal family for centuries.” Brighid moved to sit at the table away from the window, signaling for Pyra to follow. “That might seem like a noble life, but my reputation has often led to unnecessary danger for my Driver. People like to try and steal what they have no business possessing.”

The page turned to reveal aged blood smeared across the paper.

“I’ve often wondered if my power was truly worth it. Should an Emperor put themselves in even more danger by awakening me? Would it not be better if Aegaeon remained as the only Imperial Blade? I don’t mean to minimize his strength… but… I suppose there’s something to be said about _men_ desiring to own a Blade that looks like me. There’s a reason I was given a moniker while the men of Mor Ardain’s history didn’t both for Aegaeon.”

Pyra dragged a finger across the last words on the page – an apology Brighid must have written in the final moments of that Driver’s life.

“But Mὸrag… she isn’t the Empress.”

“No, she’s not.”

The next few pages of writing slipped between her fingers until Brighid stopped the skimming by pressing a solitaire finger against the spine. The sketch that stretched over the page was of a woman’s face, staring defiantly forward. That steeled gaze was easily recognized.

“But she’s someone I wish to protect… perhaps more than you would expect of me as just her Blade.”

The meaning behind Brighid’s words were suddenly all too clear. Being afraid of rejection… Pyra looked up at her. Her heart clenched in her chest at the forlorn expression on the Blade’s face as gazed down at her old drawing.

“You’ve said that to Mὸrag? That you’re not sure being her Blade is worth putting her in danger?”

“Not long after we resonated, a group of soldiers challenged her. They wanted my Core Crystal.” Brighid smiled sadly at the memory. “It’s how she earned her title as the Flamebringer. I’ll just say those men never threatened us again, but she didn’t come out completely unscathed. When I mentioned it to her, that perhaps she would be safer without me... she said resonating with me meant she was just as responsible for my safety as I was for hers. I was worth the risk.”

“That was sweet of her.” Pyra ran a finger over the worn page. “She’s the only Driver you’ve sketched.”

“I felt words weren’t enough for her.” Brighid smiled softly. “I grew fond of being able to visualize my memories instead of just reading about them.”

As the pages turned, images of Mὸrag, a Blade Mythra recognized, and a boy with a crown sped by. She could have sworn she saw a sketch of Vandham and Roc, but Brighid quickly moved on. Eventually, the fire Blade removed her hand, letting Pyra casually browse the gallery. Not surprisingly, the journal was filled mainly with drawings of the Ardainian Driver – most of them poses that appeared to be candid.

Then, there was Jin.

And Malos.

And that awful sketch of Nia.

Pyra couldn’t contain her laughter at the sight of that Dromarch-Nia fusion again. “It was _you_?!”

“I’m sorry?” Brighid looked down and a wide smile broke over her face when she recognized the drawing. “Ah, you’ve seen that before.”

“Are you kidding? Nia was _furious_ when she saw this in Torigoth… does she know it was you?”

The Blade huffed in mild defiance. “I can’t be blamed for only having the memory of a few soldiers to go by. Most of whom were traumatized by the terror Torna would unleash. Given the carnage, a monstrous tiger didn’t seem farfetched.”

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to make light of what Jin has done to your countrymen.” Pyra traced the sketch with her finger. “Maybe it’s best you _not_ tell her, though. It took her long enough to forgive you for throwing her in jail.”

Pyra continued her browsing, smiling at the sketches of Rex, herself, and the others in their company. The incomplete sketch of Mὸrag and Rex’s training session. Then a detailed drawing of her and Mythra, side-by-side.

“Wow, you even captured Mythra’s sourpuss.”

_“Hey!”_

“It startled me, when I couldn’t recognize you.” Brighid brought a hand up, under her chin. “My journal made no mention of an Aegis with your appearance and yet… when we met again, I could only make my best guess that Mythra was in fact the Blade I had written about.”

“Words can only do so much, I guess.”

“Indeed. All the more reason for the artwork.”

Pyra felt heat rush to her cheeks as she took in the last few drawings. They were clearly done during moments when Brighid and Mὸrag had been alone recently. In most of the sketches, Mὸrag’s eyes were shut. She was asleep – peaceful. It was a look the Aegis hadn’t really seen on her face during the brief time she had known the Driver. She quickly flipped the journal closed, the discomfort she felt from clearly prying into their personal lives exploding.

“Mὸrag doesn’t know about these?”

“She’s aware that I sketch from time to time.” The Blade shook her head with a laugh. “She teased me relentlessly about Nia. I’m afraid she was expecting something far more hideous when the poor girl was brought out for interrogation.”

Pyra laughed with her for a moment before a somber thought settled into her head. “She doesn’t know you draw _her_ , though… right?”

“I suppose I’m just as guilty as you are.” Brighid reached forward and dragged the journal back to her safe keeping. “Perhaps one day, but for now… she knows this journal is how I’ve always remembered myself. How I choose to do so is something she decided long ago was only my business.”

“You can ask, you know?” Pyra’s eyes filled with warmth. “You can ask Mythra, I mean. You and I are just getting to know each other, but she… she knew you back then. I’m sure she’d be willing to share if you’re curious.”

Brighid clutched her journal a little tighter. Mὸrag always did have a way of reading people well.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I would prefer we get to know each other in the present before delving into the past.”

“I’d like that.”

The Aegis reached out and placed her hand over Brighid’s. The Blades sat in comfortable chatter as the hours stretched on. It was only the soft knock on the door by Mὸrag that pulled them away when their meeting with Amalthus had finally arrived.

\---

Brighid looked for the right moment… but it never seemed to come.

Her conversation with Pyra had left a growing knot in her chest. There really was no good reason she had refrained from sharing her journal with Mὸrag. To be honest, she had never thought much of it. Her Driver already knew her history. They had spent countless hours talking about the years they had missed – though Brighid had centuries of past lives while Mὸrag had only lived about 15 years without her Blade. It had been Mὸrag’s insistence that Brighid _speak_ rather than _show_ that kept the journal closed. Brighid had not argued… though, that was back when her journal was merely an unfinished novel of text.

Would Mὸrag be surprised to know Brighid had been recording their life in such a way? It was one thing to write about it, to weave a story of their journey, but to immortalize their more private moments on paper? Knowing that one day her journal might fall into someone else’s hands, that the images she had made of her Driver might be viewed by someone other than her…

She hadn’t thought of those consequence when she started and then one drawing had quickly snowballed into an entire book. Pyra had seemed shocked by how extensive the artwork was… and she herself had only be captured on paper a few times. Mὸrag littered most of the pages. That made it feel all the more daunting to reveal. It almost felt like she had violated Mὸrag’s privacy.

_If you don’t tell him now, you’re just storing up pain for later. Not making it easier…_

She couldn’t stand being a hypocrite. Mὸrag had a right to know.

As luck would have it, their visit to Indol quickly turned into a relentless disaster. Torna. Temperantia. And the death of Fan la Norne. Mὸrag was absolutely distraught that Jin had nearly succeeded in thrusting her county into war and that she had been nearly powerless to stop it. The man’s tactics were escalating dangerously… and it was starting to take its toll on Mὸrag as she struggled to stay ahead of him. There was an unusual, but clear sign of defeat in her eyes as they waited for the Emperor and Aegaeon to arrive. The woman was obviously expecting to be reprimanded. Nothing that had occurred had been her fault, but Mὸrag had promised her brother that she would keep the Senate in check… and she had failed.

Of course, Emperor Niall has already surmised that all fault rested with Senator Roderick, but that did little to alleviate Mὸrag’s stress. Her attention was directed to the conference with Indol and, almost immediately after, the Mor Ardain-Uraya Summit.

There was no time to stop even to breathe… let alone for Brighid to reveal her secret.

To make matters worse, rumors of an assassination plot began to circulate. It was honestly ridiculous how quickly things were falling apart in Indol. It only took a little coxing for Mὸrag to agree she was stretched for too thin to handle the investigation. So, they turned to the Aegis and her Driver.

But it was all for nothing.

Bana’s plot made it past their defenses. Another failure for Mὸrag’s growing list. And the assassination attempt nearly succeeded.

Nearly.

Brighid was certain that the anguished cry of her Driver would remain with her until the end of her current life. For once, she was grateful she couldn’t fully capture a memory through words and drawings in her journal. Despite all of the heartache, though, the Emperor had survived and the relief in Mὸrag’s eyes was utterly blinding.

He had been saved, but the same could not be said for Aegaeon.

The euphoria of Niall’s return to life was cut short when a cold, dead Core Crystal had been placed in her Driver’s hand.

Aegaeon.

Brighid felt an emptiness within her at his loss. For years, they had stood together, united by their common purpose. In every life she had written about, he had been beside her. Her partner.

An Emperor is never meant to fight. For the good of the Empire, he is meant to be kept safe – alive – protected by the strongest Blades Mor Ardain had encountered in the early days of its forging. Fighting was left to the army – the expendables. As the more powerful of the two, Brighid was often sent to the front line while Aegaeon was relegated to defense of the throne. Should she fall in battle, he would protect their Driver until she could be reawakened. They worked seamlessly together.

He had always been there… until an Emperor failed to awaken them both. Aegaeon had sprung back into life while Brighid had remained dormant.

Until Mὸrag had become her new Driver.

The late Emperor had gifted Mὸrag her Core Crystal at the time when she was still meant to be Mor Ardain’s next ruler. It was her birth right. But, when Niall was born and Mὸrag lost her title, the Core Crystal was surprisingly never given back. The Emperor was a wise man. He knew his time was short, that his son would take the throne too young. It made little sense for a child to wield the Jewel of the Empire at a time when she might be needed most of all. Brighid would be unnecessarily crippled with such a physically limited Driver… and so, she was left in the capable hands of a woman who would soon step up to be the boy-King’s retainer.

Aegaeon had been there when she had awakened – a calm and guiding hand as she attempted to acclimate to the world again. And Brighid had eagerly returned the favor when the late Emperor died and Aegaeon returned as Niall’s Blade - a blank slate.

It could have easily been the influence of their Drivers, but regardless of why, he had always felt like a brother to her. Her family. Reborn together for centuries.

Now, he was gone again…

_\---_

_Brighid sighed as she watched yet another solider jump into the combat ring below. Mὸrag had insisted that she train alone ever since they had nearly been bested by a Berserker Mammut that had run rampant in the port. Her justification was simple: to reduce her need to rely so much on Brighid’s strength. That meant the Blade was left to her own devices for the last few mornings. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her rather quickly, though, which had led her to spy on her Driver from afar. The young Ardainian really was quite talented despite her self-imposed criticism._

_At first, that particular training session had started one-on-one. Mὸrag had forgone her whip-swords in favor of the standard katana issued to the Ardainian military. The single soldier had quickly proved little contest and another had joined the fray… and another… and now, another. Four-on-one and Mὸrag was still brilliantly holding her own. It seemed more like a training session for her Driver’s ego than her skill… she needed tougher opponents._

_Still… the view was quite spectacular. Sweat-soaked skin glistened under the hot sun, highlighting the woman’s toned musculature. Occasionally the short tunic-style top she had opted to fight in would drift upward, caught in the arching movements of her arms. Brighid was certain she had blotted ink on her journal each time she had caught a glimpse of those beautifully chiseled abs. She hummed in appreciation. Mὸrag was truly a work of art. Brighid simply ignored her own personal bias._

_It certainly couldn’t be helped that she felt the need to capture her Driver on paper._

_“Enjoying the view?”_

_Brighid startled, thankfully lifting her pen before she ended up ruining her work. She turned her head quickly as she leaned over to block the view of her open journal. Aegaeon was smiling down at her with an annoying look on his self-assured face._

_“Haven’t you learned that it’s rude to sneak up on a Blade? I could easily retaliate without realizing the fool to startle me is actually an ally. What would you do then?”_

_Aegaeon let out a hearty laugh as he sat himself beside Brighid, leaning against the barren tree she had taken shelter under. “I’m fairly certain your flames would fizzle out against the dampness of my waves. You’re welcome to try, though.”_

_Brighid gaped at him for a moment, before a short puff of laughter cracked through her angry façade. “My, Aegaeon, Emperor Niall truly has brought out quite the joker in you… I keep forgetting you’re not nearly as serious as you used to be.”_

_“Am I so different from your memory?”_

_“No, not all.” Brighid brushed her shoulder against the Blade. “More casual, yes, but I wouldn’t consider that a bad thing. His Majesty simply heightened some of your softer qualities.”_

_Aegaeon pushed her back. “Don’t think I can be so easily derailed, Brighid. You never answered my question.”_

_“You’re a child.”_

_“They do say Blade’s take on qualities of their Drivers, do they not?” The water Blade chuckled at his own joke as he followed Brighid’s gaze to the training ground below. “Might I suggest using me as a model sometimes? You can’t truly grow as an artist if you’re only drawing one thing, can you?”_

_Brighid’s glare was fierce. “What makes you think I would be willing to suffer with the details of your convoluted form?”_

_“As if Mὸrag’s uniform is any less complicated.” The Blade grumbled as he shook his head. “Fine, have it your way. I suppose I can’t blame you. She truly is a spectacle.”_

_Brighid smiled at the man’s playful indignation. “I’m sure you enjoy seeing how well she appears to handle your weapon of choice.”_

_“Agreed. Though she cannot actually wield my katana, I do appreciate her technique.” Aegaeon rubbed his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. “I might ask to join her during one of these sessions. I have a feeling I would be better practice than these soldiers she drags out of the barracks.”_

_Brighid hummed in approval. “The fact that we can dampen each other’s ether flow would certainly make for an interesting match.”_

_“Indeed, though I imagine we’re eager for different reasons. I strive to continue honing my skills as a Blade fighting without my Driver. You simply want to be around when Mὸrag’s training tunic gets drenched by my waves.”_

_“Excuse me?!”_

_Aegaeon slapped a hand down against the dirt beside him as he threw his head back with a laugh. “That wasn’t exactly a ‘no’, Brighid. Hard to argue when you’ve spent hours painstakingly drawing each muscle on Mὸrag’s body in that journal.”_

_“You’re a cad, Aegaeon. I think I liked you better as the late Emperor’s Blade.”_

_“Oh, come now… you don’t mean that!”_

_Brighid huffed as she abruptly stood, journal slapped shut in frustration. As she turned to retreat, Aegaeon sobered quickly and shot a hand forward. He gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her back, offering Brighid a truce-laden smile._

_“My apologies, Brighid. You know I would never speak a word of what you put on those pages.” He waited for her to sit back down and meet his gaze. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know? Your feelings for her are something you should celebrate. Why hide it?”_

_“Aegaeon…”_

_“Life is short, Brighid. As Blades, we are more keenly aware of that than anyone. Perhaps you most of all… you’ve already seen me die once…” He tapped the cover of her journal gently. “You shouldn’t just live your life in this. Live it out here – with her.”_

_“Do you really think she-”_

_“You must actually be unable to see with those eyes if you’re questioning that. Haven’t you noticed the way she looks at you?”_

_Brighid sighed as she turned back to gaze down at her Driver. Mὸrag had just cut down the third soldier and was rounding on the fourth. Her movements were smooth and calculated. The only indication that she had been at it for so long were the few strands of hair poking out of her normally flawless bun. It was easy to get lost in the details of her…_

_A cool arm wrapped around her back, dark fingers drumming against her shoulder._

_“Don’t wait for the perfect moment, Brighid. That will never come. Just tell her.” He squeezed her gently against him. “Tell her and then you’ll know… but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”_

_Brighid laid her head on the water Blade’s shoulder as they both watched Mὸrag knock the final soldier to the ground. The Ardainian sheathed her sword before lifting the neck of her tunic to wipe sweat from her brow. Her eyes softened and a gentle smile stretched across her face as she caught sight of her Blade atop the hillside. Brighid raised a hand and pressed it against her chest, hoping in vain that it would still the sudden rapid pace of her heart._

_\---_

_Hours later, after they had finished their dinner with the Emperor, Brighid felt Aeageon’s hand on her back. He nudged her toward their Drivers with an encouraging nod. That Blade was too nosey for his own good. Brighid huffed at him but took a step forward nonetheless. Mὸrag immediately took notice, catching her eye before asking to be excused from His Majesty’s presence. The boy-ruler heard a subtle cough at the back of the room and looked to his Blade. The eagerness plastered across Aegaeon’s face was hard to miss. Niall stifled a chuckle as he dismissed his sister and watched her exit the dining room with Brighid on her arm._

_His blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as his Blade approached. “What have you done, Aegaeon?”_

_“Nothing that you would disagree with, Your Majesty.” His smile was soft and fond. “Some birds need a gentle push from the nest before they can fly.”_

_\---_

_They wandered the palace halls in comfortable silence as Mὸrag let Brighid lead their steps toward the steam elevators. It wasn’t long before they had made their way up to the Grian Wing Area – Brighid’s typical destination for her nightly constitution. Mὸrag smiled as she watched her Blade relax against the view of the city sleeping below. She didn’t always join Brighid on her evening strolls, but she had heard her silent request after dinner and had been more than willing to oblige. She could patiently wait for her to say whatever was on her mind._

_“The city is quite beautiful when the dust has settled.” The pride in Mὸrag’s voice was hard to miss._

_Brighid tightened the grip she had on the woman’s arm. “You awoke me years ago and this view still takes my breath away.”_

_“Brighid… I don’t mean to pry, but are things well between you and Aegaeon?”_

_The Blade turned to her Driver, brow furrowed. “What would make you ask that?”_

_“I saw the two of you together during my training session… and you’ve been quite distant ever since.”_

_“I brought you here with me, didn’t I? I wouldn’t consider that distant.”_

_Mὸrag sighed as she untangled her arm from the warm grasp that confined it. “I know he has a tendency to tease you, but if he’s gone too far…”_

_Brighid waved away the thought. “Aegaeon is harmless, Lady Mὸrag. He’s done nothing… except make me reconsider a few things.”_

_“Such as?”_

_Brighid brushed fingers against the woman’s cheek, cupping the side of her face. She absently drew circles across soft skin as she took in the warmth radiating from her Driver’s gaze. There was unending patience in those amber orbs – a look reserved just for her. In that moment, she believed Aegaeon and took a step closer, bringing her forehead to rest against Mὸrag’s._

_“I’m not sure words are enough…”_

_Mὸrag ran a soothing hand against her back, pulling Brighid in closer. “Then don’t speak.”_

_Brighid wasn’t quite sure who moved first, but somehow, their lips brushed. They touched lightly at first, testing and hesitant, but Mὸrag’s grip soon tightened and Brighid brought her other hand up to frame her face. They kissed with desperation, clinging to one another as they drowned in each other’s taste. Lips and hands moved with an addictive blend of lust and reverence as their feet blindly shifted. Brighid felt the sting of cold metal against her back – it was a delicious contrast to the heat of Mὸrag’s mouth and fingers. Gloved hands mapped the curves of her body, all restraint and hesitation gone. They gripped the underside of her thighs, lifting her legs off the ground. A moan was pulled from her mouth as she felt the cool touch of Mὸrag’s hip armor as she wrapped her legs around her waist. One hand remained to steady her as the other trailed back up her body until it reached her face._

_Mὸrag pulled back just enough for their lips to break, her breath labored as she nuzzled against the side of Brighid’s face. Burning hands immediately tangled in her hair, keeping them trapped against one another._

_“I think we might be on the verge of public indecency if we keep this up.”_

_Mὸrag laughed against her neck. “I feel as though I should care more about that than I clearly do.”_

_The hand under her thigh trailed upward, tracing a dangerous path until Brighid reached down to stop it. “Not here, Lady Mὸrag.”_

_A flash of fear clearly streaked through Mὸrag’s eyes as she looked up. Brighid brought both hands to the woman’s face and pulled her in for a gentle kiss._

_“This is real.” Another brush of their lips. “When we walk through those halls…” and another. “…this will still be real.”_

_Mὸrag kissed her desperately, clinging tightly wherever her hands could find purchase. The obvious depth of her passion nearly startled Brighid… it made her curious just how long her Driver had been hiding their clearly mutual feelings._

_She broke the kiss with a gentle push. “Please, Lady Mὸrag. I want to take my time with you…”_

_That was assurance enough._

_Swallowing their desire, they disentangled and helped straightened each other’s clothes. When they were satisfied they didn’t look at all suspicious, they made their way briskly back through the palace. The hallways seemed to stretch endlessly until they had finally gotten to Mὸrag’s door. With just one stumble of her fingers, the Ardainian turned the key and lead her Blade inside. As soon as the door shut, Mὸrag leaned down and swept Brighid into her arms. Long strides brought them across the room and Brighid sighed happily at the feel of silk sheets against her skin – much nicer than the metal turret from before. With a playful tug on Mὸrag’s shirt, she brought the woman down on top of her and swallowed her startled gasp with a kiss._

_Hands wandered to clasps and buttons, replaced by lips when skin was exposed. They lost track of the hours that ticked by through the night as they made up for all the time they had lost._

_\---_

_Aegaeon retreated to his quarters the next day in the late afternoon. He hadn’t seen Brighid or Mὸrag all morning, but he would take that as a silent victory. Eventually, he would have the opportunity to gloat. With a tired sigh, he rolled out the kinks in his neck, but abruptly stopped when he caught sight of a silhouette on his desk. A montecoran doll sat on the metal surface – the design matching one that he had been seeking for his collection for the better part of the year. Attached to its arm was a small card with elegant script inside._

_‘I wasn’t disappointed._  
Don’t gloat.  
Cad.’

_The Blade laughed heartily as he clutched the treasured doll against his chest._

\---

Page after page was covered in his image. The simple fact the Brighid was drawing from memory gutted her. She would give nearly anything to have him beside her while she sketched his likeness. He had asked her to all those years ago… and after she had successfully taken his advice, she happily agreed to have him model for her. For years, they found quiet moments to steal away when their Drivers were occupied so Brighid could hone her craft. He had been a confident supporter and steadfast in his secrecy on her behalf.

Now, that was gone. Even if he came back to them, he wouldn’t remember all that he had done for her. She couldn’t help the tears that smeared parts of each page she turned to.

The sounding of the door unlatching made her flip the journal closed and quickly wipe at her eyes. If Mὸrag noticed her state of distraught, she didn’t mention it as she silently entered their room and began the tedious task of removing her armor. Brighid turned her head just enough to watch as the woman meticulously undid every gear clasp, placing the metal aside with her hat and shoulder cover on the small table in the room. With a heavy sigh, the Ardainian collapsed onto a chair, propping her elbow on the worn wood of the tabletop as she threaded her gloved fingers through her hair.

She looked exhausted.

“According to Pandoria, we have about half a day’s travel left before we reach Tantal.”

Brighid wiped at her eyes one last time before she joined her Driver at the table, journal in hand. “That soon?”

“Apparently, we are running counter to Genbu’s path around the World Tree.” Mὸrag offered her a worn smile. “If you can trust those two to know where a buried Titan is beneath the clouds.”

Brighid nodded as she placed her journal on the table, her fingers stroking over the cover.

“Did I interrupt you?”

The Blade shook her head. “Not really… I was just…”

“Remembering him?”

“In a sense.”

Mὸrag reached forward with her free hand and stilled Brighid’s digits atop the journal. “I know it won’t be quite the same, but when he’s ready, I’ll awaken him. You can form new memories together.”

Brighid smiled as she turned her palm, lacing their fingers together. “Are you sure you’re alright with that? Being his Driver?”

“Not willing to share, Brighid?”

The Blade sighed. “Lady Mὸrag…”

Gloved fingers tightened over hers. “I would prefer being his Driver over the alternative. Letting him remain dormant… it feels wrong. Bringing him back is the least I can do to thank him for keeping us safe.”

Brighid nodded as she stood, tugging on Mὸrag’s hand until she did the same. Without words, she stepped forward and trailed her hands up the woman’s uniform until they reached her face. Her heart warmed as Mὸrag nuzzled into her touch. Their lips brushed softly, as if asking silently to move forward before their hands took over. They buried themselves in each other, drawing every ounce of burning comfort from the familiar feel of skin. Their hearts beat heavily with loss, but in the hours left in their journey, they found solace in their passion.

\---

Tantal had been an unmitigated disaster.

When the Artificial Blades finally retreated, Zeke made his way over to Rex. He attempted to lift the unconscious salvager from the snow, but the wound Jin had inflicted stretched painfully. Nia and Dromarch were in no state to heal any of them, so Mὸrag elected to carry the boy. She shook off Brighid’s protests and began the long trek back through Genbu’s spinal column.

Broken and beaten, they dragged themselves to the inn in Theosoir without the Aegis by their side. Aegaeon was there to greet them, having been tasked with aiding in the evacuation of the Tantalese. Mὸrag passed Rex into his arms before succumbing to her own exhaustion – Brighid just managed to catch her before she struck that hard, stone floor.

It was a day later when she awoke, catching sight of her treasured Blade at her side. Brighid’s head was bent, her left arm making sweeping gestures as she poured over the journal in her lap. Mὸrag couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh that escaped her lips. The soft sounding of her voice made the Blade freeze, but her journal did not close.

“Recording the tale of our failure, Brighid?” Mὸrag rolled away, staring intently at the wall.

Brighid turned and reached a hand to run softly against the woman’s back. “Look at me.”

Mὸrag huffed out a sigh as she graceless flopped onto her back, stubbornly tilting her face up toward the ceiling. She didn’t want to see it, the look of disappointment and pity Brighid would have on her face. The sound of Rex’s pained cry still rung constantly in her ears – that was torture enough.

She startled slightly as warm fingers trailed down her neck. The bruises… they had surely risen to the surface by now.

“Look at me, Lady Mὸrag.”

The Ardainian slowly acquiesced and rose up enough to lean back against the wall at the head of the bed she had been laid on. Brighid’s face was thankfully blank.

“You have not failed yet.” She brushed a hand over Mὸrag’s cheek. “A set back. That’s all this is. It’s not our first along this journey and it certainly will not be our last. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed.”

Mὸrag shook her head solemnly. “I was sent here by the Emperor to protect her – to guard her from her enemies in the hope that she might save this world. Instead, I let her slip out of my grasp and into the hands of the very Blades we’ve been tasked to defeat. I let them walk off with the way to the World Tree cleared. And now, I’m sitting here while Malos and Jin are-“

Brighid silenced her with a finger against her lips. “Pull yourself together, Mὸrag. If you can’t see clearly, then look at yourself through my eyes.”

Taking a calming breath, Brighid placed the open journal in her Driver’s lap. “I don’t see failure when I look at you. I see the will to keep going… which is exactly what we’ll do when you’ve healed.”

Mὸrag’s eyes widened as she took in the images splashed across the page. An angered portrait of her held down by those damn Artificial Blades in one corner. Mikhal’s hand gripping tightly at her neck. And lastly, a full page of her walking with Rex cradled in her arms, her eyes clearly colored with unshakable resolve.

“Brighid…”

“ _That_ is what I see when I look at you.” She brushed a stray hair from Mὸrag’s face. “Recovering the Omega Fetter did not end as we would have hoped, but that hardly means we’ve failed.”

Mὸrag couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips as she brought a hand up to cover her eyes. “Now is when you choose to show me this?”

“Lady Mὸrag?”

The Inquisitor dragged the hand down to her mouth. “I’ve waited years for the final wall between us to fall.” Her fingers glided across the journal and hovered over the image of her hanging helplessly in the air. “I suppose nearly dying put things in perspective for you?”

“You’ve known…”

“That you have a tendency to draw me?” Mὸrag removed her hand, revealing a tired smile on her lips. “I suspected as much. One does not often write text by drifting their hand in randomized motions over paper.”

Brighid moved closer to her Driver as the woman slowly began to flip back through the journal. “You never said anything.”

“I was waiting for you to tell me.” Mὸrag smiled down at an image Brighid had drawn of the two of them. “It didn’t actively bother me that you chose to keep this to yourself. I assumed there would come a moment when you would be ready to show me. I’m curious though, why now?”

The Blade sighed as she moved Mὸrag’s hand out of the way and flipped back to the page with the unfinished sketch of her and Rex in Fonsett. “Do you remember this day?”

“Of course. I attempted to knock some Ardainian discipline into the boy.”

“Yes, well, Pyra spotted me. I didn’t handle that breach of my privacy very well.” Mὸrag merely smiled at her and waited for the story to continue. “When we reached Indol, I took your advice and apologized. I had spied on her speaking with Corinne about her fear of being Rex’s Blade, so I wove a fanciful speech about why she should be honest with him. She saw right through my hypocrisy.”

Brighid placed a hand over her Driver’s fingers. “I started these drawings before we had come forward with our feelings for one another. They were a way for me to express what I so desperately wanted to say to you… and then after that, well, the sheer volume of sketches I had done made it all the more daunting to tell you.”

“You know I wouldn’t have been bothered by it. I told you that the way in which you choose to remember is yours to decide.”

“I know… I suppose it just became a habit to keep it hidden. It felt less intrusive.”

Mὸrag laughed. “You thought staring at me with no explanation was _less_ intrusive?”

“Fair point…” Brighid sighed as she stared intently at their tangled fingers. “Losing Pyra, nearly losing you – you’re right, it put things in perspective. What we’re doing, this mission we’re on, it could kill you without so much as a warning. That much was just made abundantly clear to me. I don’t want there to be anything unsaid between us. If we die, I want to go knowing that I gave you every part of me.”

Mὸrag pulled her Blade into a gentle embrace. “I don’t intend on dying, Brighid.”

“Good.”

When she pulled back, Mὸrag brought a hand up to cup Brighid’s face. “Thank you for finally showing this to me.”

“I spent the entire day you were unconscious working up the courage.”

“Could we sit for a while? I would love to see everything.”

Brighid felt her heart nearly burst as she nodded. Lifting the sheet, she slipped under the covers beside her Driver and flipped back to the beginning. Before Mὸrag could turn the page, she stilled her fingers and turned the woman’s face toward her.

“I’ve never drawn any of my previous Drivers. I want you to know that.”

The fondness in Mὸrag’s eyes was undeniable as she leaned forward and brushed her lips over Brighid’s. “I love you just as deeply.”

They spent hours reliving their history with each passing page. Moments of sheer happiness, heartbreak, and utter laughter were captured brilliantly between the worn covers of the journal. As each drawing passed by, Mὸrag couldn’t deny that the sting of defeat slowly eased to make way for her reaffirmed resolve.

\---

As their journey stretched on, the pages continued to fill. Mὸrag sat beside her as Brighid sketched Nia’s new form, utterly mesmerized by how her Blade brought the image to life. On their rides to Mor Ardain and onward to the Cliffs of Morytha, the Ardainian couldn’t help but smile as she felt Brighid’s stare. It was difficult to refrain from getting up to look at what Brighid was doing, especially now that she knew what those stares meant. Instead, she took to sending her Blade a knowing smile before returning to whatever mundane task Brighid had decided to record.

The journal eventually served as a source of comfort for Brighid as she walked the decayed streets of Morytha in search for her Driver. It kept her focused on the hope that she might see the woman she was sketching again. When Mὸrag’s image became too painful to look at, she took to capturing the landscape.

Eventually, the pages filled with the sacrifices of Blades they had once called enemies and her recollection of the Architect. Then came portraits of their companions – a final recording before they parted ways after having traveled together for so long.

It was hard to fathom that the tale was over, that such a large chapter of her journal had closed. The Aegis had fulfilled her destiny and their world had been reborn. There was no need to continue traveling as a fellowship of nations – or so they thought when they chose to return to their respective homes. Eventually a meeting of world leaders was called with Pyra and Mythra as the unbiased overseer. Every ruler came to the same conclusion – their new world needed to be charted. And so, the fellowship reformed (with one of Queen Raqura’s advisers joining as Uraya’s representative) and Brighid was tasked with sketching the map of Elysium.

After months of traveling, there was a page with rings sketched with the finest detail. Images of Mὸrag in her dress uniform were nearly endless and just as many showed Brighid alongside her in a flowing gown of ivory. A grand celebration with Niall officiating, Aegaeon walking Brighid down the aisle, and their dear friends cheering for their happiness.

Brighid continued to sketch as the years sped by, each moment of their life together blazoned across the pages. When she finally reached the last page, she drew Mὸrag’s hand held within her own, the rings that symbolized their devotion clearly visible. Then, she sent her pen down for the last time.

Unknown moments later, when the Jewel of Mor Ardain was reborn, she was handed two journals by Emperor Niall’s eldest son – her new Driver. One book was blank, but the other made her believe that the life she had left behind was a not so distant memory.


End file.
